Волны

           Iwilldropastoneinandseebubblesrisefromthedepthsofthesea.NevillehasgoneandSusanhasgone;JinnyisinthekitchengardenpickingcurrantswithLouisperhaps.Ihaveashorttimealone,whileMissHudsonspreadsourcopy-booksontheschoolroomtable.Ihaveashortspaceoffreedom.Ihavepickedallthefallenpetalsandmadethemswim.Ihaveputraindropsinsome.Iwillplantalighthousehere,aheadofSweetAlice.AndIwillnowrockthebrownbasinfromsidetosidesothatmyshipsmayridethewaves.Somewillfounder.Somewilldashthemselvesagainstthecliffs.Onesailsalone.Thatismyship.Itsailsintoicycavernswherethesea-bearbarksandstalactitesswinggreenchains.Thewavesrise;theircrestscurl;lookatthelightsonthemastheads.Theyhavescattered,theyhavefoundered,allexceptmyship,whichmountsthewaveandsweepsbeforethegaleandreachestheislandswheretheparrotschatterandthecreepers...’

           ’WhereisBernard?’saidNeville.’Hehasmyknife.Wewereinthetool-shedmakingboats,andSusancamepastthedoor.AndBernarddroppedhisboatandwentafterhertakingmyknife,thesharponethatcutsthekeel.Heislikeadanglingwire,abrokenbell-pull,alwaystwangling.Heisliketheseaweedhungoutsidethewindow,dampnow,nowdry.Heleavesmeinthelurch;hefollowsSusan;andifSusancrieshewilltakemyknifeandtellherstories.Thebigbladeisanemperor;thebrokenbladeaNegro.Ihatedanglingthings;Ihatedampishthings.Ihatewanderingandmixingthingstogether.Nowthebellringsandweshallbelate.